So Much History

Alice Dunbar-Nelson

Alice Ruth Moore, aka Alice Dunbar-Nelson, was born July 19th in New Orleans Louisiana in 1875, to mixed-race parents. Beginning in the 1920s, her prolific reviews of other Harlem Renaissance writers and artists’ work earned her nationwide recognition. Through her involvement with the Harlem Renaissance artistic movement of the 1920s, Dunbar-Nelson rose to prominence as an activist writer. After graduating high school at 14, she attended a teacher-training program at Straight University, and at 17 in 1892.

She further studied at Cornell University, the Pennsylvania School of Industrial Art, and the University of Pennsylvania. At a young age, Alice Moore became interested in activities that would empower Black women. In 1894, she became a charter member of the Phillis Wheatley Club in New Orleans, contributing her writing skills. She worked with the Woman's Era Club's monthly newspaper, "The Woman's Era". Targeting refined and educated women, it was the first newspaper for and created by African-American women. Alice's work with the paper marked the beginning of her career as a journalist and an activist.

In 1895, Alice Moore's first collection of short stories and poems, "Violets and Other Tales", was published by The Monthly Review. Around this time, Moore moved to Boston and then New York City. She co-founded and taught at the White Rose Mission (White Rose Home for Girls) in Manhattan's San Juan Hill neighborhood. She began a correspondence with the poet and journalist Paul Laurence Dunbar. Alice's work in The Woman's Era captured Paul Laurence Dunbar's attention.

After two years of correspondence, they met at a farewell party in Massachusetts prior to one of his trips to Europe in February of 1897. Dunbar proposed marriage to her that evening. Alice’s family did not support the engagement, and she and Dunbar eloped and married secretly in New York on March 6, 1898. For most of their married life, they lived in Washington, D.C. Alice continued to write during their marriage, publishing "The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories". This was published as a companion piece to her husband’s "Poems of Cabin and Field" in 1899. The volume helped establish her as a skillful portrayer of Creole culture.

Paul would often physically abuse Alice, which was public knowledge. She endured four years of an abusive marriage to Paul before leaving him after he assaulted her in January of 1902. Alice and Paul never divorced. After Paul's death in 1906, she continued to use his name. She then moved to Wilmington, Delaware, and taught at Howard High School for more than a decade. During the summer, Alice Dunbar taught at the State College for Colored Students (now Delaware State College).

In 1914, Alice co-founded the  Equal Suffrage Study Club, and the following year she was a field organizer for the woman’s suffrage movement in the mid-Atlantic states. Alice married journalist, poet, and civil rights activist Robert J. Nelson in 1916. She joined him in becoming active in local and regional politics. They stayed together for the rest of their lives. Dunbar-Nelson supported the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP.) She served with the Women’s Commission on the Council of National Defense and the Circle of Negro War Relief during World War I.

I sit and sew—a useless task it seems,
My hands grown tired, my head weighed down with dreams—
The panoply of war, the martial tred of men,
Grim-faced, stern-eyed, gazing beyond the ken
Of lesser souls, whose eyes have not seen Death,
Nor learned to hold their lives but as a breath—
But—I must sit and sew.

I sit and sew—my heart aches with desire—
That pageant terrible, that fiercely pouring fire
On wasted fields, and writhing grotesque things
Once men. My soul in pity flings
Appealing cries, yearning only to go
There in that holocaust of hell, those fields of woe—
But—I must sit and sew.

The little useless seam, the idle patch;
Why dream I here beneath my homely thatch,
When there they lie in sodden mud and rain,
Pitifully calling me, the quick ones and the slain?
You need me, Christ! It is no roseate dream
That beckons me—this pretty futile seam,
It stifles me—God, must I sit and sew?

– By Alice Moore Dunbar-Nelson

An idle lingerer on the wayside’s road,
He gathers up his work and yawns away;
A little longer, ere the tiresome load
Shall be reduced to ashes or to clay.

No matter if the world has marched along,
And scorned his slowness as it quickly passed;
No matter, if amid the busy throng,
He greets some face, infantile at the last.

His mission? Well, there is but one,
And if it is a mission he knows it, nay,
To be a happy idler, to lounge and sun,
And dreaming, pass his long-drawn days away.

So dreams he on, his happy life to pass
Content, without ambitions painful sighs,
Until the sands run down into the glass;
He smiles—content—unmoved and dies.

And yet, with all the pity that you feel
For this poor mothling of that flame, the world;
Are you the better for your desperate deal,
When you, like him, into infinitude are hurled?

– Alice Moore Dunbar-Nelson

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